Hollow
by lets waltz
Summary: Now she's just a shell of what she used to be.
1. Chapter 1

Drama club was supposed to help. Talking to Mom and Snake was supposed to help. Shopping, Manny, therapy sessions every week, it was all supposed to help. Nothing ever did though. Everyone just kept saying "It'll take time. It'll take more time." But what if time had run out on me? What if this was as good as life was going to get from here? I just didn't know anything anymore. Everything I had known, or thought I'd known, was wrong. I thought Rick had changed. I thought everyone was moving on. I thought I was going to die. No, I knew. I knew I was going to die. Maybe that's the only thing I was right about. The way I saw it, Rick had it easy. The bullet took less than five seconds to kill him. Toby, Sean, and I…we were all still dying because of that bullet.

I think that's what Rick meant when he told us it was too late. He knew Jimmy was gone, and so was he. So was everyone. I'm back inside these walls and I don't recognize anyone anymore. Some of them I've know all my life…but they were all gone now, morphed into shells of who they used to be. A girl I met at the group they set me to, she told me about being raped. She told us the guy had held a knife to her throat and, when she begged from her life, he had laughed. Maybe _that's _how Rick felt. So anyway, the guy laughed. She was begging for her life and he was amused. He scratched out, "Look at me. Look at me!" And when she finally did he told her, "I wouldn't really kill you. It's so much better when they kill themselves." I want to say again: maybe that's how Rick felt. All I think about now is "Maybe that's how Rick felt."

Everyday he came to school and they tortured him, they beat on him, followed him, hated him. He wanted to kill us all…maybe we had killed him first. That's what haunts me. It really haunts me because if that is how Rick felt it changes everything. I remember the night of the shooting, sitting in that room with everyone watching the news. I could see the question in Toby's eyes, the "maybe this is how Rick felt." I went with him to the vigil in front of the school. I remembered how he had kept saying "He was not my friend." He had to separate himself…he had to make sure everyone knew they weren't alike. Because he was haunted by something darker than how Rick felt: how he felt himself. I saw it in his eyes that night; when he slammed the door…he knew it could have been him. He could've just as easily snapped. Toby and Rick, they were friends. They were more similar than anyone wanted to admit. And even if that one little detail had changed, even if it _had _been Toby who snapped…everything else would have been exactly the same. I've seen so much pain, not just in my own life, but at that group. At their root, all our stories are the same.

So that's that…that's what I'm building on. And I'm scared. Because I saw how I was going to die and now all I can do is…wait for it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N This story was not meant to be a single. I should have made this post in the first chapter but I didn't…sorry. This story picks up in Bark At the Moon, the format I'm following travels back and forth through journal entries and therapy sessions to daily life. I want to continue as close to the actual show as possible. However, I will be adding in my own takes on the situations. I currently have up to Modern Love. Each episode gets two chapters. That's pretty much all the structural stuff.

**PinkTribeChick: **Thank you! When I first saw "Time Stands Still" that was what really stood out with me, the way Toby kept trying to distance himself from Rick. It was the first time I noticed how close _he _thought they were.

**Idontknowanything: **Thank you for your comments, they really helped me shape my author's note and review some of the finished pieces for length. I may still keep the journals shorter, but I've made sure the dialogue/daily life pieces are longer.

**Pianochick36: **Thank you for commenting. To answer your questions: I was raped when I was younger; part of my recovery plan for it was group therapy and a job as a survivor counselor. That is where trauma survivors counsel other trauma victims. It serves to not only create safe environments for victims but also to really show them that life does get better. We mostly deal with rape victims but there are also other victims of extreme violence at our sessions. That's the root of this idea; the way we, as humans, deal with trauma can be fascinating.

**Rememberese: **Thank you! I went through several other wordings for those two lines before deciding on that one so I've very happy I picked the right one.

**EvaBlue: **Thank you very much. Emma's character is probably the one that fascinates me more than any other character. They do so much in the show, but they still leave so much untouched.

I hope you all continue to read and enjoy this story. Thanks again for the comments!

I woke up that morning in a cold sweat. The nightmares hadn't stopped, but they were beginning to change. Susan, my friend from group, said that might be as good as I can ask for right now. I had taken Dr. Ghiarde's advice, "When you have a nightmare, you also have the power to change it." She told us, "Wake yourself up, then go back into the dream. These images haunt will you forever if you let them. When you get back into the dream, play it out…do what you wish you had done, do something different, do everything different…whatever it takes." So far the only one thing was different; now instead of the nightmares stopping when I woke up, I went back to sleep and let them drag me on. I was finding that it didn't matter what I changed in the dream, Rick still wanted to kill me. Maybe if I could go back to the kiss? What would I change though, my words? My feelings?

"EMMA!"

"Yes?" I called back.

"You need to hurry up and get ready, Snake is leaving soon."

"I can walk," I replied, but not loud enough to be heard. I knew where that conversation would go. She would ask if I felt safe walking out there alone, I would say yes. It would be a lie; I don't feel safe anywhere. As much as I hated to admit it, my mother knew me…and nothing I could say would convince her I was okay when I wasn't.

"Emma? Did you hear me, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'm getting in the shower." I made my bed before heading into the bathroom. I liked the way it looked, like I was still normal. But I couldn't get the nightmare out of my mind. Toby wasn't at my side this time. I thought if that had changed, I might have handled things differently. I was "cause girl" after all. Surely some part of me could have found the strength to say something to him. Sean handled it so perfectly, calmly trying to talk him down. Why couldn't I have done that? So I tried it. I said, "Rick you don't want to do this…you have so much to live for."

He scoffed back at me, "You. I had you…but that was just a lie, wasn't it?"

"There are other things, Rick. And we can work through this all…together."

"No! I see you! I see what you're trying to do! You don't want to know me, you want to save me. I'm not a tree, Emma! I don't need fixed!" BANG!

I grab my chest; I always do when I'm reliving the dreams. It's so real from the business end of a gun. I turned the water off and threw some clothes on. I didn't like to make Snake late when he was doing the best he could. I tried to remember that he had issues to deal with too, more than my own. It was his old school, it was one of his students that started shooting, it was four of his students that were dragged toe-to-toe with their mortality. It was his daughter.

I ran upstairs and let him know I was ready whenever. He smiled over at me, "How did you sleep last night?"

"I'm…I slept better," I let the lie roll off my tongue; someone deserved what they wanted to hear.

"Good! Good, that's great," Snake smiled down at me, "and you're ready to go?"

"Yeah" I mumbled grabbing my bag.

Degrassi never changed. In America, after shootings and massacres they made the changes that were necessary for the safety of the students. Here there were no metal detectors, no security officers, nothing. Maybe that's why I was so bitter when Manny came bouncing up to me about school spirit ideas. I had a school spirit idea, when your students come to you and ask for your help, actually listen. When they come to you and say, "We don't want him here, he screwed up, he hurt someone, we're still afraid of him AND we just plain hate him," listen. Let's try that…maybe then we won't need cardboard signs and pep rallies to gloss over it. I knew Manny had been hurt when I walked away, and I owed her an apology. That would come later…she would understand. I was always taking out my anger on her. Sometimes, to switch things up a bit, she got pissed at the world and turned it on me. It wasn't healthy, but it worked and, right now, that's all we were looking for.

I sat through class and just went home. I had a routine and I never stepped outside of it. That is how I got through the days. At home I played a few rounds of "Where is the bunny?" with Jack. Mostly, I was just biding my time waiting to call Manny. I wanted her to know what was going on. I wanted her to understand. She had done a great job avoiding me all of yesterday and most of today. But now, I wasn't going to wait to tell her to her face. When I was sure spirit squad was over I called, "Hi…this is Emma. How are you, Mrs. Santos? Is Manny there? Thank you."

"Hello?" she sounded out of breath.

"Hi, Manny…it's Emma."

"Oh. Emma…what do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"Yesterday?" she asked even though I was pretty sure she knew.

"I was rude to you, in the hall…when you were talking about spirit ideas…and I'm sorry. It wasn't on you."

"Oh Emma! It's okay, I get it."

"No, you don't…and it's not okay. I just…everyone wants to pretend Rick didn't happen."

"You mean you don't?" she asked.

I paused for a minute, thinking. Yeah, I did want to pretend…but I couldn't. Maybe I wasn't just angry, maybe I was jealous. Everyone else got to move on. What did I get? Routine.

"Emma? I shouldn't have said that…"

"No Manny, I wasn't. I was just thinking. You're right…I do want to pretend. But…I just…"

"You can't. Em…I feel so stupid. I get it, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pressuring you."

"Of course you should be pressuring me. If you weren't pressuring me I'd still be sitting in bed most days ignoring the world. So, did you come up with any ideas?"

"Um yes, actually, we're throwing a dance. It's this electronic cupid thing. Tres cool, right?"

I laughed, "It'll be the best dance Degrassi gets to see, I'm sure."

"Thanks, but it was that new kid's idea, Chester."

"Yeah I've seen you with him a lot recently, what's going on there?"

"Nothing, I was his welcome committee and now he's helping with the dance. We got this whole database thing set up and—"

"He's cute."

Manny sighed, "Yeah…"

"So! What's going on there? Anything?"

"I don't know; there's nothing yet. But I'm holding out."

"What about Spinner?"

"He started acting all weird…"

"What do you mean?"

"Saying he wants to be my boyfriend"

"Manny, that's not weird."

"I'm sick of being lied to. I'm sick of feeling used. Look, let's talk about something else. Are you going to come to the dance?"

"I don't think so. I'm not ready for that kind of party, you know?"

"Yeah…more than you think."

We went on for a few more minutes about the dance and how she loved working with Marco until I just couldn't take it anymore, "Hey? Manny, my mom is home with dinner so I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright, tomorrow then. Bye."

I set the phone back in the receiver and stared down at my hands. What did Manny mean, "More than you think?" The worst part of PTSD wasn't the nightmares or the daily fear or the utter helplessness; it was feeling completely blind to other people's pain. It was feeling like my pain made me inept to dealing with my friends or family. I was so busy digging myself out of this grave I couldn't focus on anything else. My life had become "The Emma Nelson Goes Mental Show" and I couldn't change the channel…even when I wanted to.


End file.
